


Family

by SouthernMoonshine



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Post Series, Slice of Life, a kitten is found, duo is a danger to himself and society, friends - Freeform, we're all mad here but it's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 22:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19159813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernMoonshine/pseuds/SouthernMoonshine
Summary: Five ex pilots, trying to figure out how to have a life after the war. Somehow, they all end up here, together: maybe family is what you make it.





	1. Family: Quatre

Wu Fei is up with the sun. I'm a little later, but still pretty early. I like to watch the sun rise. I'll get up and get dressed in the dark, and walk out through the apartment to the balcony. Wu Fei sits in the one old chair-a plastic affair-folded up in the lotus position. He sits there, perfectly still, and takes no notice of me. I always tell him good morning, but he never says anything out on the balcony. I lean on the rails and watch the sun rise.

After, I'll go into the kitchen and start breakfast. I can cook fairly well. Wu Fei cooks better than I do, but it's hard to make him stoop to cooking for all of us. We all take turns, except for Duo. He burns everything. Even instant ramen. However, I'm usually up first, so I start breakfast.

Wu Fei and I are the only really early risers. Trowa will get up late in the morning, left to his own devices. So will Heero-that is, only if he's remembered to go to bed in the first place. Half the time I'll get up at five in the morning and find him still hunched over at the table, typing away on his laptop. He'll often spare me a wry look and a sheepish little shrug when I catch him like that. Duo, no matter how early he has gone to bed, will get up around lunch.

I rummage through the fridge, gather my ingredients, and start frying up the bacon. While I'm doing this, Wu Fei comes in. He nods to my second morning greeting. " _Zao an_ ," he tells me, calmly. He gets in next to me by the stove and starts on his omelettes. He makes spectacular omelettes. He'll make one for me, since I'm up early with him. Trowa will have to make due with scrambled eggs.

We finish cooking breakfast. Wu Fei takes his out onto the balcony. He likes to eat out there. It makes sense, since only four of us can sit at the table now. We used to all be able to sit around the table, but ever since all the furniture got pushed up against the walls, four at the table is a tight fit. I take my usual seat, second away from the wall, where I can look across the room and see out the balcony. I check the clock. It's eight already.

Trowa shuffles out of the hall, yawning widely and still only half awake. He goes straight for the kitchen and breakfast. I chuckle a little when he yelps. He always burns his fingers on the bacon. Trowa starts up the coffee-maker as well. Wu Fei will come in later and have a cup. I prefer orange juice with my breakfast. Still yawning, dressed only in his pajama pants, Trowa sidles in to sit beside me, tucked up against the wall. He says little other than a slurred greeting. He's never really awake until he has had his coffee.

I'm already washing up my dishes by the time Heero appears. It's ten-oh-five. He brushes past me sleepily, and gets himself a cup of coffee. The torn end of his sleeping shirt gets hooked on a drawer knob, and he nearly spills his coffee. He wriggles it loose with a disgruntled sigh and tosses a grumbled, " _Ohayo_ ," in return to my cheerful greeting. He goes and sits across from Trowa, who is doing yesterday's Sudoku over his second cup of coffee.

Today is Heero's day to fix lunch. I suspect an odd combination of foods-Heero is one of those peculiar people who can eat anything, and does not care how strange it tastes. Wu Fei is feeling generous today, however, and orders out for pizza instead. We're settling down across the floor with our food by the time Duo comes staggering out of the room he shares with me and Trowa. I look at the clock. It's half-past twelve.

"Good afternoon, Duo."

"Morning," he yawns, and makes his unsteady way to the coffee-pot. Though only a little remains from this morning, he emerges with the dregs in a cup, heavily doctored with milk and sugar. He sits down next to me, crosses his bare legs, and reaches for a slice of pepperoni. He hasn't yet redone his braid-it's all fuzzy and his bangs are standing out like a porcupine's quills. He must have slept on his face all night. He has a crease pattern from his pillow imprinted on his cheek.

"You snored all night," Trowa complains, suddenly, stealing a slice of cheese right out from under Duo's fingers.

"Wha-? Did not." Duo scowls.

"Did too," I agree. "You slept on your stomach. Your face is creased."

Duo pats his cheek, frowning.

"I heard him," Heero pipes in.

"If Heero heard me, I must've been pretty bad," Duo admits, with his mouth full. "Why didn't you roll me over?"

"I did," Trowa answers. "Twice."

"You even sat up and said something to him," I tell Duo. "I think you told him to leave you alone."

"I did? I don't remember."

"You never do," Wu Fei sighs.

Duo is our heaviest sleeper. I have seen him nap right through Heero starting up Wing Zero, which is the equivalent of starting up a jet engine. It was incredible. Heero and Trowa, on the other hand, are light sleepers. Heero can't sleep if there is any noise in the room. Wu Fei and I are moderate, though Heero and I share the same instantly-awake reaction. If we're awake, we are awake and usually can't go back to sleep. Trowa can sleep anywhere, even if it may not be for long, and though any noise will wake him up, if we want him up for good we have to do it several times. Wu Fei is the same way. If we wake him up once, it may not be good enough. Saying something to us is not a good indication of complete consciousness.

Duo is the only one of us who snores, though. And only when he sleeps on his stomach-which, unfortunately, is his favorite sleeping position. He is not the loudest snore-er I've ever heard, but he can crank up the volume allright. Trowa is thinking of trading rooms with Wu Fei, but I don't think Wu Fei will agree to that. He's just stubborn like that.

Heero cleans up the lunch mess. Trowa goes out to run some errands. He tries to take Duo with him, but Duo adamantly refuses. I settle down with a book in one of the armchairs, near the table. Duo, brush in hand, still wearing his boxers and the ridiculously over-sized T-shirt he sleeps in, sits cross-legged on the couch and starts on his braid. Wu Fei settles into the center of the room and starts his martial arts routine.

This is one of the reasons all our furniture is lining the walls. One day Wu Fei pushed the apartment's furniture out of the way so he could practise his martial arts. He did not put it back when he was done, and Heero tripped over the end-table on a midnight run to the fridge. He had a very bruised shin and a black eye, and stiffly told Wu Fei to put the stupid furniture back when he was done with it. A few days later, Trowa moved the furniture again and practised his acrobatics. He put the furniture back. Heero ran into the couch this time, bruised his other shin and blacked his other eye, not mention scaring Duo half out of his wits. It was declared by Heero that the "stupid furniture" was to be put in one spot or the other and for it to "stay that way or I'll get rid of all of it!" Thus, our furniture became permanently stationed against the walls. While I can't say I dislike it, I would like for all of us to be able to sit around the table again. Like a family.

But maybe we don't really have to.

Maybe we're a tiny family all the same.


	2. Drugged: Duo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is meant to be disjointed, yes.

I come up out of sleep with a start. Someone touched me. For some reason, it's really hard to open my eyes. My body feels really heavy. Panic starts up slowly. I'm drugged.

"Hush, Duo."

Trowa. I finally get my eyes open and blink muzzily up at him. He is leaning over me, a hand on my shoulder. He says nothing else, merely nods and rolls me over onto my back. I let him, feeling heavy and really, really sleepy. I'm drugged up good, I realize slowly. Oh, yeah. I think I broke my arm. Maybe. I'm not really sure. My brain feels kinda fuzzy and out-of-focus. I lie still and watch Trowa try to untangle me from the blanket. I "flop" when I sleep, and blankets and pillows wind up either in knots or halfway across the room.

Trowa unwinds one arm and sets it across my chest, then does the same with the one dangling off the side of the couch. "Stay up there," he mutters.

I look down. Yeah, my left arm is in a cast, and there is a vague-fuzzy-throb there. It doesn't really hurt. I must be on the really good drugs. I shift clumsily, trying to help Trowa. He sighs at me, and instead pulls me up to sit, leaning against the armrest and supported by his arm on my shoulders.

"Here." Heero appears, leans over, and deftly frees my legs from the tangled blankets. He picks up the blanket and folds it, 'cause he's a neat-freak like that.

"Thanks." Trowa slips his other arm under my knees. I realize, finally, that I am being moved off the couch, and reach up with my unbroken arm, attempting to get a hold on Trowa. He stops, and removes his arm briefly to place mine over his shoulders, making sure my hand lands on the shoulder of his shirt. I grab a handful and hang on as he scoops me up and stands. Heero has moved away, and I don't bother trying to find him. I'm too tired.

I'm so drugged. Everything is hazy, even though I know our apartment like the back of my hand. Drugs work really good on me. I was an orphan, so I never got any drugs before, and since I'm just not used to them, well, they can really knock me out. I'm the only one of us with that problem, though. Quatre's got a good resistance to most meds, 'cause he used to take a lot of 'em. Trowa and Heero are fine, though Heero don't often take drugs 'cause he's got a really really high tolerance for pain. Wu Fei hates drugs. They do some funky-weird things to him, and don't always do what they're supposed to. So he just don't take 'em half the time. Not that I care. When the others drug me up they make sure I stay drugged up. Yeah...it's kinda nice, I...I guess...

I startle awake again. Trowa lurches, kicking the bedroom door shut. He's got great balance, though, so I don't worry about him dropping me. I just keep my eyes shut. Too much hard work to open 'em anyway. He carries me over to the bed. I'm not used to being carried, 'specially not like this. Most of the time I get carried I'm hurt and on a mission, and then it's the old fireman's carry, and that's really rough on the gut. Of course, not many people can carry me now. Wu Fei's too short, Heero's almost too short, and Quatre's just too tiny. I can't carry anybody, 'cept maybe Quatre. He's little. I mean, I'm scrawny, but Quatre's got me beat. He was born with something wrong with his heart, he said, and that's why he's so little. He's still taller than Heero and Wu Fei, though. I might could pick Heero up, if we were in big trouble, but I don't think any of us could lift Wu Fei. He's like a block of steel or somethin'; really really heavy. He weighs more than I do. But everyone does, anyway, 'cept Quatre.

"Oh, I'll get that," Quatre says. I blink one eye open. Quatre's fresh outta the shower, 'cause he's only in a towel. He's wet, too, and smells like oranges and spice. He smiles at me, and flips the covers back on the bed so Trowa can put me down.

Whoo, I must be pretty bad off. I never get to sleep in the bed unless I get 'nough pity.

Usually, I sleep on the pallet on the floor. There's only two bedrooms in the apartment. Quatre, Trowa, and me all share one, and Heero and Wu Fei share the other. I get to sleep on the floor, 'cause I snore. Quatre says I kick, too, and he's had the bruises to prove it...

"So are we getting him up for supper?" Quatre.

"Yes. He slept through lunch." Trowa.

"I see. Well, at least the pills are working." Quatre dislikes people missing meals. I flinch a little when his hand touches my shoulder. He tucks in the sheets, murmuring something. "His braid looks terrible. I'll redo over supper...if he can stay awake that long."

"Good luck."

Trowa sounds amused. He's probably playing with Quatre's monkey. I can hear the little furry trouble-maker chirping. I dunno where Quatre got the thing, but it's his pet and he loves it to death. Heero wanted a cat, but Quatre got a monkey first. I swear that monkey is the devil incarnate. It'll tear stuff up and make a real mess anytime we're not watching it when it's not in its cage. Quatre loves it, though. Dunno why. I'm with...with Heero. I think a cat would have...been...better...

"Duo. Duo, wake up."

I groan and open my eyes. Quatre is leaning over the bed, smiling a little. It's really dark. The lamp beside the bed is on, though.

"Come on. You need to eat." He shifts his shoulder, and the little monkey appears, grinning at me. "Qerd, there you are," Quatre says, smiling at the monkey.

I scowl at them both. I'm really sleepy. And I'm not really hungry. And I don't really like the monkey. Quatre knows it, too. I roll over and haul the blankets up over my head with my good arm.

"Ah, Duo..."

A hand hits the doorway and I jump. "Quatre, keep your infernal monkey out of my room," Wu Fei demands, sounding mad. "Having trouble with Duo?"

"He needs to eat. He's only had a piece of toast this morning."

I have? Whoa. News to me.

Wu Fei snorts. "I'll get him. You go put your monkey up."

"Thanks."

Quatre moves away. I can't hear Wu Fei come up, but he burrows a hand through the covers to poke my ribs. I squeak. I'm ticklish, and Wu Fei knows it. He laughs a little. "Up with you. You need to eat. Your braid is unraveling, too."

I fumble for my braid, alarmed. I know how much of a mess it can get when it comes unbraided. While I'm doing that, Wu Fei, the trickster, snatches the blankets away and sits me up. Wu Fei's sorta nice, though, so he lets me find the hair-band and tie off my braid again. Only a few inches has come undone. Wu Fei pulls me to sit on the edge of the bed, waits, then stands me up, an arm slung over his shoulders. It's funny, and I laugh, because the top of his head comes only to my shoulder now.

"Walk, Duo."

It's an unsteady trip down the hall, across the main living room, and into my chair at the table. Our table's shoved up against the wall, so only four of us can sit there. But if it's dark, then Trowa's probably at work. Heero's already at the table, and he grabs my arm to keep me upright.

" _Baka_ ," Heero snorts.

"Moron," I say, only it comes out really funny. Heero rolls his eyes.

Quatre sets a plate in front of me. For once it looks like plain spaghetti and sauce. Quatre cooks weird stuff sometimes. I'm far more interested in the glass of juice he puts down. I like juice. It's good. I'm clumsy but don't spill it. Heero is keeping an eye on me, though he's eating. He always watches everything around him. Quatre comes back, and sits beside me. Wu Fei takes Trowa's place and starts eating.

I'm drugged up good, so I'm really slow and sloppy. I'm only half-done by the time Wu Fei's washing dishes. Since Quatre cooked, he should be washing dishes, but he's brushing out my hair instead. I like it when other people play in my hair. It feels really, really nice. Makes me feel warm and sleepy. All relaxed-like. I only let people I trust play in my hair, though. I dunno where Quatre learned to braid, but he does a good job. And it feels nice. Really nice. I push my plate away and lay my head on the table. I can't quite go to sleep, though, because of all the tangles Quatre keeps hitting. And there's a spot at the back of my neck that has this nasty mat that always gets there when I don't brush it enough. Quatre's really patient, though, and he's gentle. Heero just yanks through the tangles. Ouch. So does Trowa, until he remembers to be careful. But Wu Fei's nice and careful. And he braids better than Quatre. But he doesn't like my hair. My hair's thick, really really thick, and has a mind of its own.

Quatre starts braiding. One-two-three twists, and he stops to straighten everything out. One-two-three, and brush out. My hair's so long that if anyone starts braiding it and don't straighten out the ends, it gets all kinky and snarled and nasty. But Quatre knows better. It's a nice sort of rhythm. Comfortable. Very comfortable...

Heero wakes me up. He's the only one that never says anything, just shakes. And so I know it's him. He sets a glass of juice down. "Here. Take your pill."

I obey. If I don't, they'll make me take it. Usual methods begin with a spoonful of jelly-and-pill, and end with threats of suffocation "now swallow the stupid thing Duo!" It's just easier to take it. Besides, my hand feels kinda funny, not quite so fuzzy and more hey-that-might-hurt if I thought about it. So I don't. Besides, Heero is talking again.

"Get up."

Easier said than done. I'm not quite so out of it now, but I'm still kinda wobbly. And Heero is only three inches taller than Wu Fei's five feet. But he's strong, like Wu Fei, and can pretty much manhandle me any way he wants. So up we go, across the darkened living room and back down the hall. The bedroom is empty. I dunno where Quatre is, or Trowa. Wu Fei's in his room, though, 'cause the lights are on. Heero doesn't steer me towards my pallet. Instead it's back to the bed. The pillow smells like Quatre-orange and spice. Heero, ever the neat-freak, straightens the tangles sheets and flips them over me.

"G'night," I mumble at him.

" _Oyasumi_ ," he answers absently, picking one of Quatre's towels off the floor. Scowling, he fetches up a discarded pair of pants as well-Trowa's, 'cause the seat is out. He marches off with them, shutting the door behind him.

I swap pillows. Trowa's don't smell as sweet. I mean, I like oranges, but not for sleeping on. Trowa's pillow still smells like spice-he uses Quatre's shampoo sometimes-but it's muskier, not as sweet. The covers are too straight. I wriggle around and make a comfortable nest. It takes the sheets a long time to get warm, but at last I think my toes are not...not so cold...


	3. Koneko: Heero

I like the rain.

I have been hopping from colony to colony for as far back as I can remember. Colonies are so artificial, even the weather. The rain there is not real rain, just water. But here on Earth, the rain is real. It smells different, feels different. Fresher, somehow. So much more real. So I walk home in the rain, without an umbrella. My jacket is thick enough. The streets are deserted, empty of all but the most urgent of travelers. I have no place to be but home, I guess. That is a strange feeling. For so many years I never had a home. Not two months ago, that little two-bedroom apartment here in Sicily became home. It just...did, somehow.

The rain is warm, because the weather here is always warm. And I like walking in the rain.

I hesitate, several feet from the apartment complex. I heard an odd noise. Mind, there are often many noises here, and the hissing of the rain distorts sound. But I heard...something. I shrug the one good shoulder, set my bag down, and venture down the little narrow alley. I have no fear of being attacked, not here. The war is long over.

The noise is tiny, quavering. I poke among the bagged trash in the alley, before I find what I am looking for. It is a tiny wad of wet fur, tri-coloured calico. I squat down in the rain and peer at the thing. The tiny, tiny kitten looks at me with watery blue eyes, opens a very pink little mouth, and mews at me. I look around. I can see no nest among the trash that this little creature could have gotten away from, and I see no larger mother cat at all. Carefully, I reach out to touch the little thing. It bumps its little wet head against my hand, and mewls again. I look around again, and spot the answer to the mystery.

A wet paper sack is nearby. A second, tiny little kitten is half-in, half-out of the sack. This one, however, is not moving. I scoot sideways and peer into the sack. Five little bodies in all, cold and stiff. I go back to the tiny calico. It is tiny and wet and shivering. Awkwardly, with my one hand, I pick the little thing up. It could sit in my hand. It can't be very old at all. It mews at me, cold and shivery.

After a moment of thought, I tuck the tiny thing into my sling, under my jacket. It is warm and dry under there. The little kitten wriggles a bit, but stays put. Either it is too small or too weak to go far. I stand, wince a little at the twinge in my shoulder, regather my bag, and walk up to our apartment.

I am home two days early. There was a minor disturbance at the peace conference in the Vatican City, and I got caught in the crossfire. My collarbone is cracked, my humerus broken near the head, and a rib cracked. I had to be given a blood transfusion, a few stitches, and was sent home. I doubt any of them at home have listened to the news today, however, and I doubt they will have heard about it. I take the old elevator instead of the stairs, and arrive on the second floor in almost twice the time I would have had I taken the stairs.

It is a little after three in the afternoon. Everyone should be home, unless Wu Fei's shift changed. The door is unlocked. It smells like double-chocolate-chip cookies in here. Trowa must be baking. " _Tadaima_!"

Quatre pops out of the kitchen, smiling. "Heero! You're home early...you're hurt!"

Trowa comes out of the kitchen as well, hotpad in hand.

I fend off Quatre with my good hand. "I'm fine."

"You're soaked. I'll go get some towels." Quatre trots off down the hall. I hear him call something to Wu Fei.

Trowa wanders up to stand near me. "You get shot?"

"You heard?" I reach into my sling, and am strangely relieved to feel that the tiny kitten is still warm. Carefully, I pull it out, only half-hearing Trowa's assent. I hold the little thing against my chest, lacking a second hand to steady it.

"Is that a cat?" Trowa asks, leaning over.

I shrug with my one shoulder. No use in stating the obvious.

"Heero, what have you got?" Quatre queries, bustling up with several towels in his arms. "What is that?"

Trowa tucks his hotpad into his back pocket. "Quatre, go check the cookies," he requests, taking a towel from the blonde. He reaches over and plucks the little ball of wet fur from my hand. I let him. Trowa is good with animals.

Quatre hands the other towels to me, and trots away. I start drying myself off with only one hand. By the time I shed my damp jacket and shoes, Trowa has dried off the little fuzzball and it is mewing again. It is surprisingly loud for such a tiny creature.

"Where did you find it?" Trowa asks.

"In the trash-alley. There were five others, but they were dead." I hesitate, then reach for the little bundle. To my surprise, Trowa hands it back to me. "I..."

"It's young. Maybe about three weeks," Trowa says. He turns and goes into the kitchen.

I follow, lured by the smell of the cookies. Trowa bakes astoundingly good cookies. I generally don't like sweets, but I can't really resist these cookies. Quatre is stacking a cooled batch on a plate. His monkey is hanging onto his pants leg, chattering away to him. Quatre lets the thing run loose everywhere, even in the kitchen. He dotes on the annoying creature. I think he's the only one who likes it.

Trowa shoos Quatre and monkey out of the kitchen by popping Quatre on the shoulder with the hotpad, then pointing at the monkey. Quatre grins sheepishly, collects the monkey, and goes out. Trowa starts doling out drops of dough onto the waiting pan. "Go get a sock and bring it in here," he says.

Though puzzled, I do as he says. I pass the main living area and see Duo passed out on the couch. His left arm is in a sling, and his cast is gone. My bet, however, is that he is still on drugs-it's the only reason he would be sleeping now. I meet Quatre and his monkey in the hall: Quatre has another towel under one arm and the monkey on the other. We squeeze past each other in the narrow hall. I open the door to the room I share with Wu Fei.

Wu Fei is sitting on his bed, reading. He looks up at me with a little surprise. "Heero. What have you got?"

I set the towel-bundle down next to him and turn away to rummage through my dresser drawers. There are always loose socks without a mate in there. I think it's a universal law-socks can never go through the wash and come out in pairs. I retrieve the sock and poke it into my sling. Slings are very handy for carrying light objects. I've worn them enough to know. I return to Wu Fei's bed and collect the little kitten in the towel.

"It is very young," Wu Fei says, closing his book and rising. He walks across the bed and off it, following me. "Where did you find it?"

"In the alley." I dislike having to repeat the story, but I will probably have to tell it at least twice more, to Quatre and Duo both. I return to the kitchen, with Wu Fei in tow. Quatre is in the hall, by the front door. Likely he is drying off my pack.

Trowa is leaning on the counter. He looks up as I come in. "Sock?"

I debate my bundle. "Sling."

Wu Fei leans around me and plucks the sock from my sling. He tosses it to Trowa. Trowa catches it with an easy gesture, and rummages around in the cabinet behind him.

"Heero!"

I turn to Quatre's scolding tones. He is standing in the kitchen doorway, monkey on his shoulder, a sheaf of papers in his hand. Oops.

"Do you mean to tell me you have three broken bones and minor surgery since yesterday and you haven't gotten the prescriptions filled? What were you thinking? You at least could have gotten the antibiotics right away, let alone the pain-killers! You didn't say you were hurt that badly!"

I can't help it. "You never asked."

Quatre practically vibrates with irritation and spits out something in Arabic. I try to hold back my grin. Teasing Quatre is actually quite amusing, especially when he gets wound up enough to forget to speak in English. He launches into a tirade that would be far more effective if I understood a word of it. Behind me I can hear Trowa sniggering, very quietly. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Wu Fei smirking, just a little.

Though I was raised speaking Japanese, I can speak English with ease. Over the years I've picked up a little Chinese from Wu Fei, but Arabic escapes me. I'm starting to get a handle on Italian, though, which is a good thing because that is what they speak here on Sicily. I don't think any of we five know less than three languages. Of course, most of what we know is not considered polite conversation, not by any stretch. The curse words are the easiest to learn in any language.

Quatre winds down eventually, recovering enough to break into English, though mid-sentence. "-with Trowa. You stay here and keep an eye on Duo. He gets another pill at six, though I don't think we'll be gone that long. Trowa?"

"Where am I going?" Trowa asks, amiably enough. He seems to be busy with the microwave.

I wish my hands were free. The last batch of cookies is cooling on the pan, and they look perfectly tempting. Wu Fei has one already in hand, munching with a small grin. Trowa's cookies are the best.

"To the pharmacy with me, so we can fill Heero's prescriptions. I know he won't do it." Quatre sighs. "I'll go put Qerd up and then we'll go." He leaves with the monkey.

Trowa turns around, a shallow dish in one hand and the sock in the other. The sock seems to have been knotted into a small sack, and is full of something. He nods. "When the sock cools down, warm it up again, but not too hot. I'll get something for the kitten, but in the meantime see if it won't take a little of this." He moves the dish a little. "It's warm sugar-water. Don't give it too much, though."

I nod. Trowa hands dish and sock to a surprised Wu Fei. "Good. I'm going now."

I turn to Wu Fei, who has his cookie stuck in his mouth. He shrugs, puzzled. I turn and head for the living room. He follows.

Duo is on the couch, but he has knocked off three pillows and half his blanket. I am tempted to put the pillows back on the couch, but I have no hands to do it with. I sit down beside the couch, on a pillow, and set the towel-bundle into my lap. The little kitten within mews pitiably. Wu Fei kneels beside me and hands me the warm sock. It feels like it's full of rice. I tuck the sock next to the little kitten. Wu Fei sets the dish beside my knee and leaves. I ponder the little kitten. After several tries, it becomes clear the tiny creature has no idea how to drink out of the dish. After a few more minutes, we both work out that if I dip my finger in the sugar-water, the tiny kitten can lick most of the stuff off. It's not good for a long-time arrangement, but it works for now.

Duo moans and moves. I half-expect him to roll off the couch onto me. Instead, his cheek brushes against my hair. I twitch. Drugged or not, he knows I don't like being touched. "Nnn, whatchya got, Heero?" he drawls.

The kitten mews. It's very loud for such a tiny creature.

"Cat?" Duo asks. " 'Kay. G'night." He rolls back over.

I doubt he will even remember that later.

Quatre and Trowa come back in good time. Trowa has an interesting assortment of items, ranging from an eye-dropper to a pan to be used as a sand-box for the kitten. Quatre has three bottles of pills, and promptly confronts me with the first dose in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. Protesting is now futile. So I just take the pills, leave the tiny furball in Trowa's more experienced care, and go hunt down those cookies.

It's good to be home.


	4. Going: Wufei

It is Friday night. I jog from the train station, and run up the apartment complex's stairs. I jog down the hall, and am met by Quatre at the door.

" _Asre', asre'_! We've got ten minutes!"

I squeeze past him into the apartment, kick my shoes off in a hurry and trot down the hall. I check the clock as I trot through the living room. It reads five-thirty-three. I have a little more than ten minutes. Quatre over-exaggerates. Duo charges down the hall and nearly runs into me on his way by. I just manage not to get in his way. He does not need to break his arm only a week out of his cast.

"Hurry, Wu Fei!" he shouts back at me.

I slip into my room and drop my briefcase on my bed. It's the one nearer the door. Heero is not in here. I wriggle out of my uniform, taking the time to fold it, and change into a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt. I run a hand over my ponytail to make sure it is all straight. I tuck my shirt in as I trot down the hall again. Duo and Quatre are already out the door in the complex hallway. Heero is awkwardly putting on his shoes, with only one hand. He nods to me as I sit beside him and put my shoes back on. They're still warm.

I grab both my jacket and Heero's as Duo hollers for us to hurry. Quatre locks the door behind us, and down we go. Duo bounces down the stairs. He got off his meds yesterday and has recovered full force, and while his arm is still in the sling it doesn't stop him from flapping it as he goes. Quatre, laughing, walks down far more sedately. Heero and I are the slowest, because Heero has a broken arm in a harness, and because I am a little winded from the rush.

"Rough day at work?" Heero asks as we reach street-level.

"So-so. Why?"

He glances over at me. "You smell like sulfur."

Oh. "Well, there was a ware-house raid over in Rome. The rebels were...persistent." I sniff at my sleeve. I suppose I do smell a little like sulfur.

Heero shifts his arm carefully. I realize he has his little kitten tucked in the crook of that arm. It is a slightly more precarious position now that he no longer wears a sling. Heero came home a week ago with a gun-shot wound. He was wearing a sling when he came home, but Quatre discovered the harness he was supposed to be wearing, and forced it on him, along with the drugs. Heero is not a good patient.

I drape his jacket over his shoulders. He nods his thanks.

Quatre drops back to walk beside me. "You must have had a good day at work," he comments. "You smell like smoke."

"Raid. Many explosions." I give him the short version. Satisfied, he smiles and says nothing more.

We walk down the cobbled streets in comfortable silence. Around us, the little town's business goes on. Sicily is amazingly quiet and rural, and our town is no exception. My job-and Heero's-often takes us on long trips away from home, and I am always relieved to come back here. It is peaceful here...and it is home. I'm still not very sure how a little two-bedroom apartment shared by five teenage boys became home, but it is. Maybe it is because we understand each-other so well. We were the Gundam pilots, the colonist freedom fighters. We went through the war and survived it. I don't think any of us could settle for a normal sort of life now anyway...

I work with the Preventers, an anti-terrorist organization. There are pockets of discontent world-over, for Relena Peacecraft's policies run contrary to human nature. Many a fool thinks he can run the world better than the little teenage girl currently at the head of the world's politics. There is currently a series of peace conferences being held in Rome and the Vatican City. Terrorist activity has risen to a high during these conferences. Heero, as a part of Relena's body-guard, was shot last week during the first of the conferences. I and my co-workers have been sounding out nests of the discontent and dealing with them. It's harder and yet easier now that work is nearer to home. Harder, because if anyone realized that the five former Gundam pilots lived all together in a group...we would make such an easy target. Easier, because I can come home whenever the Preventer shift changes, almost every other evening.

It's a strange feeling, to have a place to belong again after so many years.

We are getting close to the circus grounds, now. The crowd is thicker here, and Quatre has to drag Duo back to walk with us. Quatre makes Duo walk between me and himself. Duo, though not quite kleptomaniac, has a tendency to pick pockets, just to see what is in them. He generally puts other people's things back, but it really is just better to keep him from doing it in the first place.

"Eh, Wu Fei, you smell like sulfur," Duo announces. "Have fun at work today?"

"You could say so."

"Good for you! Wish I had a job that lets me blow things up," he laments, though smiling. "Oh well. I just settle for annoying Quatre. Wait 'till you hear what we did today..."

And Duo is off, running at the mouth again. Duo is the only one of us who has no official job. Quatre runs his family business via computer and occasional trips to space. Trowa works with his circus, now permanently stationed here in Sicily. Heero and I work for the government. But Duo...Duo just doesn't like working a steady job. Too boring, he says. Instead he has become something of a handy-man. He will do practically anything, from repairing cars to gardening or walking the dogs. Today's escapade appears to be involving Mrs. Giovanni's pair of toy dogs and Quatre's monkey. Duo sometimes recruits anyone at home to help him with his jobs.

"You did not tell me you were walking dogs," Quatre sighs, looking vaguely irritated.

"I just said I didn't think you wanted to bring your monkey." Duo sounded amused.

"I thought you said that because you don't like Qerd."

It's true. Duo despises Quatre's Capuchin, possibly because Duo is so monkey-like himself. I myself am not overly fond of the little creature, mainly because Quatre has spoiled it rotten. He lets it run everywhere in the apartment. Recently, however, the monkey's run of the house has been curbed, due to Heero's new responsibility: a three-week old kitten. Heero found it on the street, and promptly adopted it. I don't think I would have pinned Heero to be a cat-person, let alone an animal-lover, but he dotes on that kitten.

Quatre buys the tickets, and we file into the main circus tent. Duo buys a cup of hot boiled peanuts. He is not allowed to buy anything else-sugar makes him insufferably hyper. He will still make a nuisance of himself by throwing peanut shells. Duo gets stuck between me and Quatre again, to keep him from stranger's pockets. Instead, he picks mine, surfacing with a receipt from my train ticket, a used candy wrapper, and a wad of lint.

We have ten minutes until the circus begins, and we have prime seats. We always get here early, in order to get the good seats. I'm not sure when the tradition began, but every Friday night during the tourist season we all come down to the first showing in the circus to watch Trowa's act. Mind, we watch the rest of the circus as well, but we come here mainly to see Trowa. He never says anything, but the one night we missed a show-Duo had managed to concuss himself on the coffee-table-he came home in a rush, concerned.

It's funny how easy it is to read him now...all of them. Quatre and Duo broadcast whatever they feel freely, of course, but Heero and Trowa are not so easily understood. But now, with only three months together, I find myself picking up on their emotions and expressions without much thought. We fight and bicker but still somehow make it work. It's home, and I don't think I would trade it for anything.


	5. Staying: Trowa

I never expected this.

It was something of a surprise when Mr. Boss told the troupe that we were settling down. He said he had found a prime spot on Earth, where a circus would be welcome. I had gotten used to the idea of being homeless-I have never had a permanent home that I can remember. Many of the troupe members were the same, and expressed some concern and doubt. Mr. Boss was certain, however, and the troupe had been together so long no-one could actually consider leaving. So in the end, we all went down to Earth.

Casalvecchio Siculo, Sicily. A quiet town, a little tourist-trap for those traveling Sicily. During the tourist season, the population near-doubles. The climate here is as nice as any I have seen. The circus was welcomed with open arms, and we have all found the permanent stay to our liking. I suppose even the greatest of wanderlust can die out eventually. It took me a while to get used to the idea of staying permanently.

The first week in Casalvecchio Siculo, I called Quatre. I told him where I was and why. He has always enjoyed keeping up with us former Gundam pilots. Quatre was delighted, and promptly decided to come visit.

I learned later I gave him the excuse he had been waiting for.

Quatre arrived alone, and found me still living in the hotel, along with several others of the troupe. It takes the mind a while to get used to the idea of not leaving. Because Quatre takes care of his friends, it would never do. He took control and found a nice apartment on the edge of town. It had two bedrooms, and was a bit beyond my means at the time, but Quatre insisted. When he learned that Cathrine was not to be living with me, he proposed a second option-he could stay with me.

He brushed off my concerns and explained how he could, in fact, run the entire Winner Corporation from computer and the occasional trip. He was not suited for desk-work, and we both knew it. I'm not sure why I agreed-I'm not really a social sort of person-but I did agree to at least give it a try.

Within the first week, Duo dropped by. He stayed only a few days, and left, as he was currently hired for a transport job in France. He had barely left before Wu Fei stopped by. Wu Fei needed a place to stay while the Preventers scouted out rumors of a rebel base on a nearby island. "For about five days" turned into a week, then into the rest of the month after the Preventers finished that mission. He was sleeping on the couch, and Quatre and I each had one of the bedrooms.

Duo came back two weeks after Wu Fei had moved in. He came back with a broken foot, a sprained knee, and a bad headcold. He could not look after himself, and Quatre promptly declared he could not move on until he could. Wu Fei and I agreed. So Duo stayed, and became another resident after about three weeks. He and Quatre had tried sharing a bed, but Duo kicks like a bee-stung donkey and snores badly. He was moved to the couch, Wu Fei got my bedroom, and I and Quatre shared a bed. The beds were, originally, a pair of queens. That changed, however, after Heero moved in.

A week after Duo had settled in-and two days after he was free of his cast and a day after Quatre bought a monkey for a pet-Heero showed up on our doorstep. He was guarding Relena as she toured the nations, and had seen Quatre running errands in the town market. He did not stay that time. But a week later he was at our door again, recovering from a bout of walking pneumonia and fed up with Relena's mothering ways. We let him stay the weekend, which somehow turned into the week, then a month.

Heero had been sleeping on the floor in the living room with Duo on the couch, but the arrangement was not to his liking. He and Wu Fei, one Saturday, sold the queen bed in Wu Fei's room and instead bought a pair of twin beds. They shared a room with much more peace than Heero and Duo had. Duo was relegated the futon Heero had brought. Then Duo caught the flu, and nothing would do but for him to sleep in the room Quatre and I shared, so Quatre could keep an eye on him. Somehow, he never moved back out.

That first month of us all together in the apartment was very loud and argumentative. I kept expecting for someone to leave, and I half-expected it to be myself! But somehow...things started to fall into place. Chores got divided up. Duo was banned from the kitchen. The furniture was permanently re-arranged. Schedules were learned. And things just...clicked.

Of course, trouble still happens. Duo broke his arm last month trying to build a bunk-bed. Quatre has declared that if there are to be any bunk-beds in this apartment, they are to be bought, not built. Heero almost shot me the other day because I left a load of clean clothes half-folded in the middle of the living room. I was coming back, but Heero is a neat-freak and could not stand it. Quatre and Wu Fei had an argument over Quatre's monkey just yesterday.

We're not perfect. But this...this is home.

And I can't imagine ever leaving here again.


End file.
